“Thisis being a bad boy.”
I’m sucking in a sharp breath before I can stop myself. Heat spreads over my cheeks and rushes through my bloodstream, notching up a degree with every millimeter higher his fingertips creep between my thighs.
“We’re in public,” I remind him, but the words are incriminatingly breathy. And I don’t try to stop him.
“Isn’t that part of your rules?” he murmurs. He’s moved so that my legs are blocked from the crowd’s view, giving us the tiniest bit of privacy. “That all of our affection has to be in public?”
When his touch ghosts over the lace of my panties, a whimper escapes me. “You’re not wrong.”
“Doesn’t have to be that way, though.”
Yes, it absolutely does, because otherwise things will go further than this. This is already more than enough, and yet not even close to what I really want.
His free hand cups my face, and he traces my cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re blushing.”
I blush harder. “I’m not.”
“I can see it.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Yes, I can.” His fingers lightly explore across my face. “The bridge of your nose. The tips of your ears. The little spots at the tops of your cheekbones.”
It’s hard to keep breathing, but I’m somehow managing it. “You’ve really been looking hard at me.”
“Of course I have, Stella. I want to learn every inch of you.”
I swear I’ve just been sucker punched, every ounce of good sense knocked clean out. “You can’t say things like that, Thomas.”
“Why not?” he challenges. “Didn’t we agree to not keep secrets from each other?”
He’s got me there, but his taunting is infuriating. Instead of answering, I turn my head so his touch falls from my face, but I don’t push away the hand that’s still up my dress.
Walk away, Stella. Don’t entertain this.
Thomas watches as I lift my drink with a trembling hand. His fingers trace small circles on the skin of my inner thigh, waiting for my final answer. I knock back the rest of the bourbon instead.
He starts retreating, fingertips slowly trailing back down, but I grab his wrist before he can get far. It’s the answer I can’t say aloud yet.
As much as I shouldn’t, I want this. Wanthim. I don’t know what exactly that entails, but I want to feel him, want to close my eyes and listen as he whispers all the things I’ve been desperate to hear. I want to stop pretending there’s no sexual current running wild between us.
But I’m not ready to admit or acknowledge all the feelings behind these desires. I can’t confess how much I’ve grown to care for him, or how my new biggest fear is that I’m already tooattached to ever say goodbye. My brain is screaming at me to keep this surface-level, even if my heart has let him burrow in deep.
I can’t go another night without discovering all the things I’ve deprived myself of with my rules. I have to do what feels right—no matter the consequences.
“I know I’m breaking the rules,” Thomas murmurs when I still don’t say anything, seeming prepared to make an argument for why we should break them a little more.
But before he can utter another word, I stand abruptly from my stool. He’s about to take a surprised step back, but I cup his jaw to keep him there and declare, “Fuck the rules.”
I drag his face down to mine until our lips meet, rough and crushing, letting him taste everything I can’t put into words. He must understand, because his arms wrap around my waist without a beat of hesitation, as if he’s been waiting for this—as if all that’s been holding him back has finally snapped.
My body ignites as he pulls me flush against him, and I revel in the way we meld together, simultaneously hating myself for dodging and avoiding all the moments when I could’ve so easily had this. And as his mouth moves against mine, tongue sweeping across my bottom lip, I can hardly remember why I kept pushing him away. Why would I ever pass up a chance at this slice of heaven? Why would I act like this was anything other than inevitable?
I can’t go back to my rules after this. Whatever tether I had to them is gone and I don’t know if I can get it back.
But Thomas won’t let me forget them, even if I want to act like they never existed. He reluctantly breaks the kiss, lips lingering by the corner of my mouth.
“You don’t mean that.” His hands slip from my waist to my hips, gripping hard. “Tell me you don’t, Stella.”
